


Nocturnal Wanderings

by MapToWhereIAlreadyAm



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Experimental Style, F/M, Fluff and cuddles, Post-Episode: s03e15 Trials of the Darksaber, Touching, promises of something more, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 02:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapToWhereIAlreadyAm/pseuds/MapToWhereIAlreadyAm
Summary: Kanan comes to bed. The space between sleeping and waking, cuddles and foreplay.





	Nocturnal Wanderings

**Author's Note:**

> For the choose a kink prompt of the Kanera Trope-athon. The kink being "crawling into a bed with a sleeping lover."
> 
> Also, was playing around with voice and present tense writing styles.

The hiss of the door opening rouses her. She mumbles a “Hmm?” and is met by afamiliar voice.

“Just me. Go back to sleep.” 

Too sleepy, she doesn’t register the rustle of clothing being shed, the metallic click of his visor being placed on the workbench.

Her head drops again, fitting perfectly into the indentations made by her lek and the curve of her skull in the pillow. Despite her slumbering state, her body relaxes infinitesimally more. Unknown sources of tension unwind like springs releasing, with the knowledge that Kanan and Ezra and Sabine are back from their training sessions.

She is almost back in whatever dream she woke from — one where she needs to make sure there are enough flight suits for all the new pilots, but every container she opens contains meilooruns or lightsabers.She gasps reflexively, jerking in alarm when a gust of cool night air brings her to a higher state of consciousness.

“Sorry.”

She felt more than heard Kanan’s voice, and the sudden chill is replaced by the sublime — the warmth of his body, the caress of skin against skin. His body curves around her backside, and his face nuzzles under her lek to breathe into the crook of her neck. Bristly cheeks scour her bare shoulders and knees are drawn up under hers. Thighs against thighs, uncertain which feet belong to which limbs, borrowing space and place. Everything becomes perfect and complete.

She hums this time. Deep. Low. Content.

Mentally she abandons the uncounted flight suits. She has more urgent concerns. The human pressed against her is as delicious as the fruit in her dreams. And capable of sustaining new and less onerous nocturnal wanderings than desperate attempts by her subconscious to outfit the rebellion.

But Kanan has other ideas. He whispers something in her ear, something that has a meaning in other places and other times. His touch releases neurotransmitters that flood her body and mix with already present sleep hormones. Words cease to be decipherable when she is drunk on this cocktail.

A hand, large and wide and warm, strokes her leg. Starting at her her naked thigh, it follows the curve of her hip before then dipping lower at the curve of her waist, where her shirt has ridden up. She is soft and pliant under his hand.

A more cognizant woman might have wondered if he was pleasuring her or if she was there for his amusement. But sleepy rebel captains allow their Jedi’s hands to wander without constraints or expectations, content to swim in the pleasures of touch-induced euphorias and half conscious mental states.

Even when his hand skims the side of her breast through the thin fabric of her top, her mind only registers the physical sensation of a caress — not desire and all the implication it brings.

Sighing, she finds the space to string two thoughts together, and his words finally sink in.

_Do you wanna…?_

Does she want to make love? Some part of her was loath to leave the twilight for the bright fires of sex. But it would be easy to shift— to get pulled from this intimate, sensual, yet still slumbering place, into the erotic and carnal world. Wet kisses where her shoulder becomes her neck could easily translate into wet feelings between her legs. A hand cupped her breast and a thumb stroked over her nipple would cause it to tighten at the promise of more. His body rolled on hers, and her thighs parted to feel his desire — a position so ideally suited for mating —that would certainly push her into a different state.

She doesn’t decide. Her body reacts of its own accord. Whether in agreement or acknowledgment to his question, it didn't much matter. Turning towards her love, she unwinds to her full length, stretching muscles adding to the pleasures of this moment.In doing so, she allows him access to whatever he desires of her.

And she nods, knowing neither darkness nor blindness will keep him from seeing her invitation.

**Author's Note:**

> I post writing updates and snippets semi-regularly on Tumblr as [MapToWhereIAlreadyAm](http://maptowhereialreadyam.tumblr.com/).


End file.
